


It's Not Creepy if it's Mutual

by spncancercare



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spncancercare/pseuds/spncancercare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had been behind this guy and his little Yorkie for half a mile and he was certain now. One hundred percent certain. Completely sure. Not like that other time. Or the one before that. Now he really was sure. This was Derek Hale. In the flesh. In a hoodie. </p><p>Or that time they meet at a dog park.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Creepy if it's Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from looking at too many pictures of Nick Bateman. A big thank to my beta, [timeofmythandmagic ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/timeofmythandmagic/profile), for introducing me to not only Bateman but also Teen Wolf, for editing my jumbled thoughts, and for knowing more about Derek than I ever will. 
> 
> Shout out to Nick Bateman for being hot and specifically for these tweets, which inspired us : [ x ](https://twitter.com/itsNickBateman/status/670392430483509248) [ x](https://twitter.com/itsNickBateman/status/663545754523447296) [x](https://twitter.com/itsnickbateman/status/670073660036612096)

“dude its him” was all the text said. Stiles had no other words to use right now and Scott probably wouldn’t respond anyway. Stiles was always bothering him with his inane observations over text and most of the time, Scott ignored it. Of course this time was serious. Stiles had been behind this guy and his little Yorkie for half a mile and he was certain now. One hundred percent certain. Completely sure. Not like that other time. Or the one before that. Now he really was sure. This was Derek Hale. Male model extraordinaire. In the flesh. In a hoodie. With Yoda. 

Derek Hale was about 80% of Stiles’s sex life right now. The other 20% being Princess Leia with her buns and every Marvel superhero ever. Note the absence of a person. But here was a person. A person who was already vividly involved in all of Stiles’s fantasies. As if the one Calvin Klein commercial he did wasn’t enough, now the guy was on just about every single social media app. So Stiles followed. All of them. Derek was the only person who warranted push notifications. And shit was it worth it. The selfies with his dog, the behind the scenes pics of photo shoots, the vines of him messing around at the gym. It was too much. On the surface the guy was perfect. Perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect eyebrows. Perfect. The only mar was that one interview at a red carpet for some cologne launch where the facade slipped. Stiles swore he could hear his heart break. Derek was a douchebag. If you could get over the curt answers he gave to the interviewer, you definitely couldn’t forgive the dirty looks he gave all his fans, and you certainly couldn’t forgive the way he cut the interview short and left. This whole night was centered around him and two other models and he up and left. Stiles had been livestreaming at the time, thirsty for any glimpse of Derek and he was left speechless. After that night, Stiles lived solely inside his fantasy world. In that world, Derek was sweet and kind and probably a little too clingy. He would rather read a novel than go clubbing and complained when Stiles dragged him out to socialize. He went to the shooting range with Stiles’s dad and snored when he slept on his back. 

Of course, that fantasy didn’t matter now and Stiles pushed it to the very back of his mind. Here was the real thing and apparently all Stiles could do was follow him like a creeper. He’d been through two poop bags, three squirrel sightings, and one run-in with a very rude chihuahua and he couldn’t figure out how to approach the guy. Thankfully, Norbert gave him an in. 

The sight of a tiny little Yorkie chasing after a Ridgeback was pretty funny and Derek seemed to think so, too. Stiles slinked over to him and figured now or never. 

“I feel like a ‘pick on someone your own size’ joke is in order but I can’t quite figure out how to word it.” Stiles said, hoping his face wasn’t too red. This dude was even hotter in person and that just wasn’t fair.

“You probably could have just said that and I would’ve laughed,” Derek said with an eyebrow raised. 

“I’ll try to remember that for next time.”

“Next time? You planning on following me at the park again tomorrow?”

“Following you? Dude, This is a free country and a free dog park! I’m just walking here like everybody else! Maybe you’re the one following me! Did you think about that? You could’ve turned like at a million different places or stopped once in awhile but you didn’t. You just kept on walking right in front of me. What choice did I have? And so in conclusion sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about and I’m leaving,” Stiles concluded with a whimper. He gave a whistle and Norbert came bounding after him, a doggie smile on his face, obviously having a much better time with Yoda than Stiles did with Derek. All in all, that was about the worst possible thing that could have happened. 

Stiles couldn't even wait until he was home. He called Lydia in the car and told the story three times in varying levels of detail. Each time Derek came out looking even douchier than the last and Stiles’s anger at his sex god’s attitude grew. Of course Lydia, in her usual divine fashion, pointed out more than once that Stiles was a jerk but now was not the time for reason or logic. If he was honest with himself he could maybe possibly admit that he was flustered and overreacted and probably totally misread the situation but that would be admitting he fucked up his only shot at Derek Hale, sex god. And that was a depressing thought. 

The next morning, Stiles considered changing his routine, you know, just in case. But he was the one who always hit the dog park before work and since Derek was the intruder it was on him to avoid an awkward second meeting. Right? Stiles decided it was completely the principle of the thing and not that he was secretly praying Derek showed up again. Not at all. Not even a little. Okay, maybe a lot. But he wouldn’t tell Lydia that. Not even when she texted him as he walked out the door with a winky face. Know it all. 

Stiles and Norbert had a perfectly normal walk. Norbert ran, Stiles muttered. Norbert pooped, Stiles moaned. Norbert played and Stiles...shit. Played with a little Yorkie. A little Yorkie whose owner was sitting on the bench ahead of Stiles. An owner who was leaning forward, two coffee cups in his hands, glaring at the ground. Stiles panicked. Just as he was forming a plan of attack, i.e. run away, said owner looked up. 

“Hey!” Derek stood up and came over to Stiles, murder-face at full blast which did things to Stiles’s lower extremity but that was neither here nor there. 

“Uh. Hey.” Stiles stammered while he tried to keep a fear-induced boner at bay. 

“So, yesterday,” Derek trailed off and scuffed a boot on the ground.

“Yeah, yesterday. For the record, I was not stalking you. Like at all. Like, why would I even because I totally don’t know who you are, Derek. I mean...shit.”

Derek’s eyes widened as he looked up at Stiles and he let out a breath, “Oh.”

“Oh as in ‘Oh, I believe you weren’t stalking me’ or ‘oh, you know who I am, you creep’?”

“Both? I think? But without the creep part.”

“Oh.”

“Oh as in...you know what, nevermind. Look, I got this for you to say sorry. I think I came off badly yesterday. Sometimes people can’t tell when I’m trying to be funny. I guess I need to work on that,” Derek said as he pushed a coffee cup into Stiles’s chest.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’m gunna go now because I still feel like an asshole.”

“Wait! Shit. God, I’m fucking stupid. Okay, yeah I totally know who you are and that freaked me out yesterday and I think I totally misunderstood you and I’m not totally sure what else but tl,dr I’m definitely the asshole. And I’m Stiles by the way. And you’re so hot. And Yoda is even cuter in person. My friend Lydia is more jealous of me meeting Yoda than you I think which is ridiculous because look at you! Your eyebrows alone could have a modeling career! But whadya gunna do, right? Can’t pick your friends,” Stiles ended with huge eyes and arms flailing everywhere. Slowly, the things he said started to sink in and he revved up again. “Oh shit. That was so much more information that I meant to give. What I meant to say is I like your Stiles and my name is dog. And full disclosure, I follow you on Instagram. And snapchat. And...you know what? I think I fucked up again. Can I start over?”

Derek stood frozen to the spot. At first glance, Stiles thought the guy was about to run screaming for the cops but then an eyebrow twitched. It wasn’t much but it was enough to tell Stiles he was getting laughed at. Which, totally understandable.

“Well, Stiles, right? Full disclosure, I think I want to follow you back on Instagram. Or maybe at least walk you back to the parking lot.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. We can do it. That. I mean, that. We can do that. You can do that. The walking thing. Or the following thing. On Instagram, I mean. Cause it’s not creepy if it’s mutual. Or, yeah, okay.” As Stiles’s speech sputtered out, Derek just smiled and gestured to the path. Stiles gave a smirk and they fell into step with each other as Norbert and Yoda bounded ahead, in hot pursuit of a squirrel. Sure, they had a rocky start but Stiles thought things were definitely looking up.


End file.
